The Roots of Liberty
by TyDeLaGhetto22
Summary: "I was born a slave, but nature gave me the soul of a free man..." - Toussaint L'Ouverture
1. Chapter 1

**I have read the Hunger Games Trilogy, watch both movies and read alot of fanfiction on this site. This is my fanfiction. All I ask is that you bear with me through the beginning. **

**Disclaimer: Some of the ideas, characters and the universe in this story are owned by Suzanne Collins.**

_Shake them up! Shake them up! Shake them up! Shake them_

I let the dice roll off of my finger tips, hoping for a seven or eleven. I watch them hit the wall, roll back,

bounce three time and land on a seven.

-"What! What!" I exclaim. "Pay up kid!" The guy in front of me looks completely dejected. I know him,

well I don't know _him_ per say, I know his type. This money lying on the floor is probably money saved

from his paycheck, working daily twelve hour shifts at one of the many factories or train tracks here in

District 6. He probably took his chance coming here feeling lucky, thinking he could add a couple more

dollars on his saving. Well that's too bad because I didn't plan on losing.

-"Shit! We have to go!" my buddy Riley says. I watch as he runs past me, in my crouching position in

front of the pile of money. "Come on we have to go! We have to go now!" I watch as he hops over the

fence that closing the back alley we're in. I turn to grab the rest of the money, and see my opponent

reaching for the money. I instinctively plant my heavy working boots on his reaching hand. He reflexively

looks up, his eyes filled with pain and panic, and I take this opportunity to bring down my fist hard on his

jaw. _Damn I think I knocked him out,_ I pause for a second to look down at him. But then the sound of

approaching Peacekeeper boots reminds me that I have to leave, _now_. I quickly grab all the money on

the floor and follow Riley over the fence.

As soon as my boots hit the ground, I can hear the Keepers on the other side of the fence. One gives the

command to collect the boy on the floor and tells the others to run after us. I start to run to my right,

but run straight someone. It's Riley, he helps me up.

-"Wrong way! There's a bunch of them coming from that side." Riley says in an out-of-breath voice.

We run twenty yards the opposite direction and come out onto a main street.

-"You go left, and I go right!" I tell him.

After running past a few local stores, I run into Mr. Roberts' Delicatessen and straight out the back. I

hear him yell after me and I smile to myself. Mr. Roberts is as old as anybody in District 6, we often joke

about how he was probably around during the Dark Days, and was part of the rebel army. In all honesty,

the whole thing about him being in the army might be false, but I do think he was around during the

Dark Days.

Anyways, after running through the backdoor, I find myself in another smelly back alley. A smirk crosses

my face when I realize that I know this neighborhood. If I use the access ladder on the side of the

building and go up to the roof. Then use the door on the roof, to get inside the building and go down to

her apartment on the fourth floor; then I can just lay low for a while until these guys can forget about

me. I have barely started my trip up the ladder, when I hear the sound of peacekeepers boots behind

me.

Damn it! How the hell did they know I would be here? I scurry up the ladder; I see an open window on

the first floor and slip through it. I think it might be too late, and they've already seen me. Because I can

hear one of them give the orders to enter and search the building. When I turn around, I find myself in a

small kitchen with two gaping little kids staring at me. They sit on the kitchen table sharing a sandwich

made of only a slice of ham and two slices of bread.

They look hungry; their faces are skinny and their eyes hollow. I want to help; I swear I really do want to

help them. But I can't. This money is not for me, it's for Riley, his mother and his little sister. If I don't get

that money to them then they risk not having enough for the upcoming week. I don't know how it is in

the rest of Panem, but here in District 6 also known as "The Jungle", if you let your heart dictate your

decisions and not your brain then you won't live long enough to see your twenty-first birthday. I signal

for them to be quite by putting my index finger on my lips and rush out the door without looking back.

I run down the hallway, and through the doors that lead to the staircase. I hear them coming up the

steps. I put my back to the wall so they don't see me as I carefully make my way up to the fourth floor.

Once I reach her door, I knock in a rhythmic fashion that I know she will understand. After a couple of

minutes she opens the door, but I can't go inside because she still has the safety chains on the door.

-"What do you want!?" She says rolling her eyes.

-"Hey sweetie!" I say with a smirk on my face, trying hard to control my breathing. "I thought you'd be

running to open the door for me."

She starts closing the door in my face. But I place a firm hand on the door before she can close it. Okay,

maybe the flirting won't help me today.

-"Okay… okay, listen I'm sorry, but you have to help me." I say worriedly looking back at the door of the

staircase. I can hear the Peacekeepers coming up the staircase. "Come on, please." I try to compose

myself, but I come off as whinny.

She takes the safety chains off and opens the door a little wider to let me in. I turn around to watch her

close the door behind her. She turns around and our bodies are merely inches apart. I lean in a little, but

she moves away. I smile and follow her into the small living room.

-"Makai! What the hell is all this about? I thought I told you-"

-"Lisa! This time it wasn't my fault. I didn't even know they were coming." I try explaining to her.

-"Don't you get it!? I don't care anymore." She says with her beautiful almond shaped green brown eyes

staring right into mine. "I am done fighting with you, about hanging around Han and Riley and getting

yourselves in trouble. I'm done. All I want to know is why you came here?" She ends her little rant with

her pale small hands resting on her small, yet curvy hips. That little gesture alone is enough to make me

smile and want her as much when we were together.

I move a little closer to her, but she takes a step back and crosses her arms in front of her chest. It's

clear, that she isn't up for all of my B.S today. I look at her for while trying to get a read on her, but her

eyes and face are completely unreadable.

I give up.

-"So do you still have some of my clothes?"

-"Yes, I have a shirt and some pants… That's all I have." She says walking towards her room.

She comes back with the neatly folded clothes in her arms and she hands them to me.

-"Hurry up! My father is coming home soon and I don't want him to see you here, like this."

-"He never caught me before, what makes you think he'd catch me now."

-"Whatever. Just hurry up okay." She says. I don't miss the hint of a smile playing on her lips. I think

about going in for a kiss. But I know she is right, her father will be home soon, and I am not looking

forward to seeing that man.

In a matter of seconds, I change my clothes. She gives me a bag for my other clothes and I exit her

apartment through the fire escape, but not before planting a big kiss on her cheeks. I laugh as she wipes

it off with the back of her hand.

I get home about an hour after leaving my ex-girlfriend's apartment. And I am tired from a long day of

work at the factory, and running away from the Peacekeepers. Most importantly, I am hungry. I ate my

only meal of the day, a sandwich my mother made, for launch.

- "Ma! I'm home." I shout at the front door, as I take my boots off before stepping in the house.

-"Honey, I'm in here." I hear her call back from the kitchen.

As soon as I step in the house I can smell it; the sweet smell of my mother cooking my favorite food. Its

white rice, with sauce made with shrimp, onions, green peppers, garlic and bunch of other things my

mother puts in there that makes it delicious. My mother has made this exact dish every year, the night

before every reaping day, since my twelfth birthday.

-"Ma. What are you cooking?" I ask pretending not to know. As I walk into the kitchen and kiss her on

the cheek.

-"You'll see when it's on the table." She says, reaching around me to grab the salt.

-"Come on, Ma. " I say in a whining voice, I have used since I was two."I need to know, so I know how

much time I have to save myself." I mutter just loud enough for her to hear.

-"Hey!" She exclaims. And I smile. "You. Ungrateful. Little boy." She says in feign disbelieving tone. She

follows it with a weak throw of the cloth she was using to hold the pot. I grab it off the floor and place it

back on the kitchen counter.

-"Well, guess I'll just go take a shower."I say taking a shrimp from the pot, she gives me a slap on the

wrist, but I don't let it go.

-"You shouldn't do that. Ugh! You stink." She says dismissively waving her hands.

I twist and turn on my bed. It has been nearly two hours since I have gone to bed, but I am still suffering

from insomnia. I know it cannot be hunger, because I am still full from the wonderful dinner my mother

cooked earlier. It can't be the reaping tomorrow. I haven't been worried about those, since my first

reaping and the reaping that came the year after my friend; Little Joey got his throat, brutally ripped out

by the District 2 female tribute.

The death of Little Joey is the singular reason why I equally hate her and the Games. Before Joey's

games three years ago, the Hunger Games never mattered; they always felt impersonal to me. Of course

I knew, the concept of picking a boy and a girl from Twelve districts annually, sending them into a

physically challenging arena and forcing them to kill each other in front of a national audience until one

of them remained was wrong. However, because the Games didn't impact me or anyone I knew, they

had no meaning to me.

My memories fail me sometimes, but I remember Little Joey as the most care free, adventurous person I

met in my life. Sure, his antics and pranks often got us in trouble in school and with our parents, but his

love for life and positive energy always made it seem like we could overcome any obstacles and

tribulations. Anyone who ever met Little Joey knew the kid was harmless, for crying out loud even he

made the legendary Caesar Flickerman laugh, genuinely laugh on stage. What that girl from Two did was

pure evil and I will never forgive her for that.

Anyway, all that nostalgic thinking has got me exhausted. So I close my eyes, and gladly let the darkness

take me.


	2. Chapter 2

I wake up early.

Put on some shorts, an old shirt, worn out sneakers and head out the door. It is summer here in District 6, but the cool early morning breeze gives me the shivers. I hear in the Eastern City, where most of the heavy factories are, the air is so polluted that the temperature never drops as low as it does here in Western City.

After walking down a block, the air is getting a little too chilly for my liking, so I start jogging to warm up. I like running. Running distracts me from all the harsh realities District Six has to offer: the starvation, pollution, poverty and Morpling addiction. Morphling, is a powerful painkiller used exclusively in hospitals for severe injuries and illnesses. It causes powerful hallucinations and a yellowish tint in skin color for heavy users.

The drug is not supposed to be accessible to the common person, but somehow it has found its way in the hands of many people in the district. It is clear to anyone who has some sense, that the main producer of the drug is the Capitol. As far as I know, there are no Morpling laboratories here in Six. Of course, that hasn't stop people from trying to make homemade Morpling, but it comes out too watered down to satisfy anyone.

My thoughts are intercepted by the sound of my name. I stop to identify the owner. I see Mrs. DeSanta on the tip of her toes, waving her arm in the air. I'm not really in the mood to speak with her, but Mrs. DeSanta is a gossip. If I don't make my way there right now, I can be sure to hear about it later from my mother.

"Good Morning. Mrs. DeSanta! How are you?" I give her a kiss on the cheek.

"Good morning sweetie. How have you been?"

"I'm good. Just been working and going to school. Mostly work now, since you know, school is close."

Stupid. Of course, she knows school is close. It's summer.

Mrs. DeSanta is Joey's mother and I use to, kind of had a crush on her. So it is still kind of awkward whenever I am near her. The guys use to always tease me about it, even Little Joey. Of course, her favoritism towards me never helped things either.

When Joey died, I didn't see her as much as I use to. It's not like I was trying to avoid her, it's simply because I did not have any reasons to go to her house. Whenever she'd visit I would either be at work or school. She's actually still pretty hot.

"Makai…?" She has a confuse look on her face.

"Yeah…yes!?"

"Makai, I know you know better than to be rude when you are being spoken to."

"No I'm sorry… Just have a lot on my mine… because of today."

I watch as her whole mood change. The happy woman that was in front of me only seconds ago is gone. Her expression is somber, she tries to avoid eye contact, but I can see tears forming in her eyes. Idiot.

" 't worry about it. You'll be fine."

"Mrs. DeSanta, Im sorry, I didn't-"

"No honey, it's not your fault."

Her voice is broken and her eyes have this distant look in them.

I leave Mrs. DeSanta's home, feeling guilty about what just happen. How can I be such an idiot? I should have known bringing up the games would bring memories of her dead son. I resume my jogging to take my mind off of my most recent gaff. I reach the park about ten minutes later. Han and Riley are already playing their basketball game. Considering how late I am, I wouldn't be surprised if they were almost done.

"Hey! I'm here…I'm here" I say gasping for air.

"Oh! Look… Princess Makaila finally decided to show up."

"I wouldn't be talking with that mane on your head. You look like the illegitimate son of Caesar Flickerman and Claudius Templesmith!"

He stops dribbling the ball. It's silent for a few seconds. Then, all three of us are immerse in a fit of laughers. Considering how intense these pick-up games can get, I imagine Han and Riley are just taking a time out.

Every year, since the year Little Joey died, the morning before the reaping we meet up in this park to play a game of basketball. He was the best basketball player in Western city, maybe the best in district Six. It was his idea to use our skills as a way to scam people. We'd go to parks around the city, and play like garbage. Other players would see how bad we played and would challenge us. We would beat the brakes off of them and take their money. One day, some older guys realized our scheme. And they chased us around the city, when they finally caught up to us, they jumped us and took our money.

Anyway about an hour later, two hours before the reaping, we stop our game. It's time to get ready.

"Guys…I have to tell you something." Riley says, as we are get set to leave. "I'll be volunteering for the Hunger Games next year." _What!_

For obvious reasons, I am shocked by this revelation. First of all, no matter how much the Capitol wants to treat the Hunger Games as a pageant; no one, besides the children from District One, Two and Four, willingly want to participate in the Hunger Games. Second, Riley hates the Capitol even more than I do. Riley's father died in an accident in the foundry, when Riley was eight. And because of Riley's father tendency to be outspoken against the Capitol, some believe he was murdered, including Riley.

"What, what do you mean, you're going to volunteer?" I stutter.

"Come on man, don't be so spooked. I can handle myself." He says nonchalantly. "Besides we have been training for almost three years now."

I can't believe this. "Okay! If I have never told you this before, I'm going to say it right now, you freaking crazy. The only reason we trained, was in case we were reaped. Not to volunteer."

"Makai, I'm sorry man, but you know I have to do it. I have no other choice."

"What the hell are you talking about? So what? You just going to go in there and get yourself killed? What about your mother and Chloe?"

"They're the reason why I'm doing this. I'm tired of seeing my sister go hungry no matter how hard me and my mother work. If I can go in there play it smart and use the skills I have now I'll be fine."

"And what if you don't come back? What happens to them then?"

"I'm going to win."

I turn to Han "Are you listening to this?"

He has this habitude of staying quite whenever Riley and I get into one those heated back-and-fourths.

He simply shrugs. Somehow, I think he knew about this already.

"Makai, not all of us were born with a silver spoon." Riley says.

I feel my body tense up. I clench my fist.

"What?" I say through gritted teeth.

"Dude, I'm sorry. I didn't mean it like that. But you have to realize not all of us have the privileges that you do. I don't hate you for it, but these are just the facts."

I relax a little, only because he doesn't mean it to be derogatory like others do. Also, because I know to some degree he is right. I am a member of one of the few fortunate district families that live in the "Bee Hive". The "Bee Hive" is the nickname given to the suburban area where my parents and I live. People in district Six call it the "Bee Hive" because that's where the wealthiest families in Six live, hence the honey. And also like bees, the people of the "Bee Hive" have a nasty reputation of being very intent in keeping those who do not belong away from their nest.

"Whatever, I'll see you guys later."

It doesn't matter how much I try to fit in, people will always see me as the "rich kid" from the Bee Hive, who tries to act like the rest them. Even the two guys I consider to be my best friends.

When I get home, I am hit by a wall of perfume. I find my mother in her room dressed in her finest clothes, accompanied by an expansive set of jewelry my father brought her from District One during his time as a train conductor. One look from my mother tells me that I am late, and I'd better hurry up and get ready. My mother is a really "cool mom" as the guys describe her, but she can also be very strict when I don't do the things I'm suppose to. I guess she had to be this way, seeing as she had to be both mother and father for about ten years of my life.

For ten years, my father was a train conductor for the Capitol; he worked on both passenger and cargo trains. About five years ago he got a job at the P.D.T (Panem Department of Transportation) and during that span he worked his way up the bureaucratic ladder until he became director of transportation. Due to the nature of his work, during these ten years we scarcely saw him. We'd usually see him once a month for about a week, and he would be gone for another month. When he started working for the P.D.T, things didn't change much; he was still the workaholic he was before. As a result, my father and I never had the father/son relationship, and my mother had to be the father.

Once ready, my mother and I drive Downtown. The Reaping takes place in the dome-like stadium that has been around since the time of the Ancient World, centuries ago. I think it used to be name Lions Stadium. After kissing my mother goodbye, I get in line to register for this year's reaping. The morning before every reaping, every child between the age of twelve and eighteen must have a small blood sample taken from their finger tip by Peacekeepers. It's a way of making sure that everyone eligible reports to the Reaping.

Standing in front of me is this nervous looking girl. She looks a little too old to be that nervous; I guess some people never get over that fear.

"You know, I wouldn't worry if I were you." She turns around to look at me. And I smile.

She shyly mirrors my smile. "What do you mean?" I can hear the thick nervousness in her voice.

"Well, there's almost no chance that you will go in the Games."

"How can you be so sure?"

"First, there's about a thousand slips in there, with names that aren't yours. Second, if by some unfortunate turn of event you get Reaped, I'll take your place." I whisper that last part.

"And how exactly would you do that?"

"I have my ways, let's just say it involves sneaking into a train, a wig and make-up, a lot of make-up."

She laughs and for a second the nervousness is completely gone. It soon returns, when we hear the voice of the Peacekeeper saying "next". I give her what I hope to be a reassuring smile. I look over her shoulder as she places her hand on the blood monitor. I read the name "Karen". Before she proceeds towards her station, she turns around.

"I'll see you later…"

"It's Makai"

"See you later Makai".

I join Riley at the 17 year old section.

"Hey man! I'm sorry about earlier." He says to me as we wait for the stage crews to get everything in place.

"It's alright man, don't worry about it." And we hug it out.

The mayor of District Six welcomes us to the 64th Annual Hunger Games. She gives her usual speech about how prestigious it is for all of us to be here, and her hopes for a District Six victory this year. After her short speech, we are a shown a clip on the History of Panem. Following the clip, she passes the microphone to the escort assigned to District Six, Pilar Jocasta.

"Welcome to the 64th Annual Hunger Games. I am Pilar Jocasta and I will be this year's escort to the chosen District Six tributes." Her pause is followed by a brief applause. "I wish you all luck and may the odds be ever in your favor… As usual, we will begin this year's reaping with the ladies."

She plunges her hand into the girls' bowl and pulls out a slip. That is one reason why I like this escort, she never drags out the suspense the way I see other escorts do in other districts.

"Saraina Cruz…?"

I hear a scream in the stands, where the parents and families of tributes wait during the reapings. I look in the general direction of the scream and I see a small woman, with jet black hair being held back by a man with similar features. I turn my attention back to the little passage way that separates the male and female section. I watch a shell-shocked little make her way towards the stage. The look of despair the little girl wears on her face and the guttural screams that are coming out of the small woman in the crowd are heart wrenching. What makes it worse is that the little girl doesn't look a day over thirteen.

I turn my attention back to the present and -… Why the hell is everyone looking at me? Before I can turn to ask Riley what is going on, he takes me in a one arm embrace.

"I'm sorry brother."


End file.
